Unique  Daughter of a Vampire
by Kelleigh Rae
Summary: Tired of the love triangle between Elena, Damon and Stefan? If so, check this out! Stays true to the TV characters!   Katherine's daughter's life hasn't been easy, find out why!  "Move Ova' Petrova there's a new Vamp in town, and this time it's personal"
1. Prologue

**Prologue.**

My name is Norrah…

…and I won't answer to anything else. Actually my real name is Katherine Ella-Norrah Christova, but my mother only called me Norrah so that is the only name that I acknowledge. There are other reasons for this which I plan to explain, but for now, please, just call me Norrah.

Iam a very old woman, though you wouldn't know it to look at me, and not because I have found a miracle skin product that actually does what it claims, taking years off of my face by simply rubbing it in; and no, neither a scalpel nor a needle has ever come anywhere near my face. My appearance is completely natural, that is, if you can call a woman of my advanced age with the face of a twenty-something "natural." I am more than just an oddity, I am a Unique.

I walk through each day constantly reminded of the fact that I am different from those around me, but not for the reasons that you might already have formulated in your mind. I am used to this feeling as it is not new to me. I was given away shortly after my birth and have never known the young, unmarried girl whose indiscretion brought shame upon her family, a shame that my existence physically represented. Just moments after emerging I was thrust into the arms of a waiting farmhand to be given away to a more deserving family for a better life.

So imagine my surprise when I found out years later, after being told that my birth mother had died in childbirth and that her distraught family could not care for me properly, I was actually a representation of embarrassment to my blood relatives, so much so that they cast me off. As if that wasn't surprise enough, imagine finding out all of this as a teenager, after my father had died, and shortly before my mother lost her own life.

To add insult to injury it turned out that my birth mother had not actually died as I had always been told, but was alive and completely disinterested in me. It is for this reason that I insist that you call me Norrah and nothing different. I will never respond to Katherine or any other version of the name.

If you had discovered that you were the child of a selfish, cruel, and malicious bitch of a vampire like Katerina Petrova, wouldn't you feel the same way?

My name is Norrah, I am over five hundred years old, and I am a vampire though I am not your average blood-sucking demon of the night by any means…I am a Unique…


	2. First

**First.**

I started out human; we all did because as everyone knows, vampires cannot reproduce. It's too bad because after a century or two, even the least stylish of us has finally caught on and could be easily mistaken for attractive. Vampire children do not exist, they would likely be a scourge, and vampires rarely ever turn children, they are far too impulsive and unable to control their urges. Turned children are almost always killed by elders so as not to risk exposure to humans who tend to overreact and try to hunt the vampires. It never ends well for the humans involved and usually we have a few casualties on our side as well. I try not to get involved in such affairs; they tend to be bleak and bloody and don't hold my attention as they do for others.

I first entered this world in 1490; it was the middle of the night in a farmhouse in Bulgaria. My birth mother was denied the right to hold or even to see me. All she was told was that I was a girl and I was then taken from the hands of her mother, my grandmother for all intents and purposes, and handed out the door by her father. I will not refer to him as my grandfather seeing as how his pride denied his daughter a single glimpse of her child, and me any physical contact with her.

Wrapped only in a thin sheet I was handed over to her father's most trusted farmhand, a young Bulgarian man named Branimir who had been instructed to either find a new home for the child or to take it into the woods and dispose of it. Perhaps I would have been better off that way, but Branimir would never do that, you see he may have been the most trusted of all of the farmhands, but he probably shouldn't have been. If it was ever revealed that the farmer's daughter and he had been together one night approximately nine months earlier it was likely that the young man would not live to see another sunrise. It was easy for a farmer to cover-up such a crime; they owned so much land after all…

Branimir carried me the two kilometers to the home that he shared with his wife of five years Ellanore. Ellanore had tried for years to produce a child for Branimir but all attempts had been unsuccessful. She blamed herself, as most women of the time did, and had finally accepted her fate as a barren woman destined to be left by her husband for a woman who could bare him a child. When he walked into the house with a baby wrapped in a sheet she was stunned. Branimir explained that he had found a young woman on the road, in labor, bleeding heavily and in desperate need of aid. As the child emerged the woman continued to bleed out and within minutes she was gone. The baby was all alone and in need of a family to care for her.


	3. Second

**Second.**

As Ellanore carefully cleaned me off near the fire, she asked Branimir what they were to call me. He told her that the birth mother's last request was that her child bear her name, Katerina. This was the first of many lies that my father would have to spin to hide his dark secret. Ellanore thought for a moment and said that she would only agree if they could use the more English moniker, Katherine, and that if she is to be named after her birth mother, she should also bear the name of her new mother. She wished me to be named Katherine Ella-Norrah, and since my father called her Ella, they would refer to me as Norrah.

My parents were not prepared for a baby, and although they had tried for many years and dreamed of this day, they did not have the proper equipment. For the first few days I was fed through pieces of porous cloth tied securely over the mouth of a mason jar, diapered with scraps cut from grain sacks, and pacified only by my mother's fingertips. My mother was originally from England and her fair hair and blue eyes were a stark contrast to my own dark features. I resembled my father from day one, but she denied this for as long as she possibly could. To her I was perfect no matter whom I looked like or where I came from. For now and forever I was her little Norrah.


	4. Third

**Third.**

My parents were very much in love with one another, and even more in love with me. In my first few years I never so much as heard them raise their voices to one another. One day when I was almost five years old I was picking wildflowers on the hillside beside our home. The sun was still high in the sky and I loved the feeling of warmth on my face when I turned towards it. I spent many days on this hill picking flowers for the dinner table, to make wreaths, and for my mother to weave in and out of my long dark hair. Suddenly I heard my mother's voice shouting at someone. I started down the hill to investigate and then I heard my father's voice booming back at her.

I was blissfully unaware of their topic of conversation. Perhaps they were playing a game; I waited, but I didn't hear laughter. Instead I heard my name being bandied about over and over again. They weren't saying Norrah; instead they referred to me as Katerina, a Bulgarian version of my own first name, Katherine. I must be in trouble. The door swung open just before I reached it, my father came out, his face red, eyes narrowed and breathing hard. He looked over at me as horror followed quickly by shame crossed his face, then turned away and walked toward the village.

I entered the cottage to find my mother in tears by the fire. The flickering flames illuminated the wet spots on her face. I was scared. I had never seen my mother cry before. She looked up and saw me, quickly wiping away her tears and plastering a smile on her face. I asked her what was wrong and where was father going to which she responded that he needed to take a walk to clear his mind but that he would be back shortly. I accepted that explanation and started organizing the plates and utensils for dinner. When he returned home, father's face was back to normal, he smiled at me during dinner but he didn't look up at mother very much. If only I had known then what they had been shouting about, but it would be years before I would find out the whole story.


	5. Fourth

**Fourth.**

In almost everyone's life there comes a moment when their safe and protected little world suddenly grinds to a halt and shatters into millions of pieces. For me the brakes didn't catch all at once, it took about a week for everything to fall apart and change my life forever; for the first time that is. Suddenly everything I ever thought I knew to be true morphed into a web of lies that defined my short life, tested my love and loyalty, and forever changed my self-image. The last piece of the puzzle, the nagging feeling of emptiness that lived in the deepest part of my heart, hidden away from everyone that I loved finally fell into place.

I don't know if their timing was a coincidence or a fatal mistake on my father's part, but shortly before my eighth birthday my parents decided that it was time I knew. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was stringing up the laundry on the line when my mother called me over to the front of the house. I sat with her on the little bench that she had father make for her so that she could read and watch me play in the front yard. My father came out of the house with a chair in one hand and an old sheet in the other.

They were delicate but blunt; there was no room for intricate elaboration or conjecture. I sat there frozen in place, listening, stunned. I tried to imagine my father swooping in to help that poor girl; how sad he must have been when she died in front of him, how scared she must have been. He said that after she died he wrapped me in a sheet that he had in the wagon and brought me home. He thought that he owed it to her to give me a good home with a mother who loved me more than life itself.

I didn't cry, didn't say anything, and couldn't move. I sat there beside my mother on the bench staring at the ground. After a few moments of silence my mother asked me if I was okay, did I have any questions. I looked up at her face, her fair skin and light freckles on her cheeks, her piercing blue eyes and blond hair. She waited patiently for me to say something, react in some way. Instead I asked to be excused to finish the laundry, stood up, and walked away.

It was two days before I spoke with my parents again, not because I was mad at them, it just took that long for the shock to subside. My mother was so nervous that I wouldn't love her anymore that when I finally did speak she burst into tears with relief. I told them both that they saved me and I loved them very much; and that was it. I didn't revisit the subject again for many years, but I would be lying if I said that I didn't spend my nights wondering what would have happened if the young girl had lived; maybe then I might know who my real father was as well.


	6. Fifth

**Fifth.**

Later that week my father invited our neighbors to dinner so that the men could come up with a plan to make up for all of their crop losses that year. A drought had ravaged at least half of the fields and the men weren't sure how they would be able to make up their losses in our small village. With resources scarce throughout the country, they decided that it would be best if they pooled together all that they had and travelled into one of the larger cities where they could ask a higher price for their goods and wares.

The next morning my father, along with three other men, packed all of their surviving goods into our large wagon. It would take more than a day to get to the city so they had to leave as soon as possible to have the most time to sell before the produce spoiled. The men secured their load and then wished their respective families goodbye. When my father stooped down to my level he noticed the tears in my eyes. He promised that he would return the following week and we would celebrate then. I smiled and told him that it was okay, I didn't mind waiting. It was Friday July 13, 1498, and it was my birthday.

We all watched and waved as the wagon went around the curve in the road and disappeared. The women stayed for a bit and talked and then they gathered up their broods and left. Mother and I kept ourselves busy for the next few days. The men were expected home Monday evening for supper, but when father didn't arrive, my mother and I began to worry. Father always returned when he said he would, but mother didn't want me to worry so she told me that they might have stopped somewhere to rest. I went to sleep that night with a very unsettled mind. It turned out that my thoughts were very much justified.

In the early morning hours, long before the rooster would crow there was a loud knock at the door. Mother gathered her shawl around herself and went to answer. Two of the men from the village stood there with their hats in their hands. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but as I watched mother collapsed to the ground and made a wailing sound that I had never heard before. I knew what they were telling her, father wouldn't be coming home, none of the men would. They had all been found dead with their still full cart about half a day's walk from our village. They never made it to the city.

Mother didn't want to hear the details for they didn't matter anyway. All that mattered was that father was gone and we were now on our own. Unlike my parents, I had been born with a very curious nature. When we went into town to collect a few personal items that my father had taken with him, I lingered near a small group of women who took it upon themselves to discuss the affairs of all of the townspeople. What I overheard about the accident is still burned deep in my memory, even all of these years later.

At first the men who found the cart thought that my father and the other farmers had stopped for a rest and fallen asleep, never hearing the animal as it emerged from the woods looking for prey. Two of the men were found at the back of the wagon and the way they were positioned led many to believe that they had been asleep, but when they came to the front of the wagon an older gentleman, the one called Tobias was still clutching onto the reigns of the harnesses, his eyes wide open in fear. All three of the men had been attacked and their throats torn out. The horses had been relieved of their load and were grazing peacefully in the woods nearby.

When the men went into the trees to collect the horses they made a most gruesome discovery. The fourth man was just beyond the tree line as if he had tried to run; the difference between he and the other three farmers was the state of his body. His neck bore the same type of wound, but more violent, as if whatever did this to him intended to rip his head clean off. His arms and legs had been separated from his torso and strewn around. It appeared that he never had a chance; my poor father, torn limb from limb as he tried to escape a wild animal, or so I thought.


	7. Sixth

**Sixth.**

The burials were kept private, only immediate family members were in attendance. When the wooden coffins that contained our loved ones arrived in the village I noticed that three had removable lids, but the fourth was nailed shut. I didn't have to ask why or who was contained inside. I watched as wives and children lifted the lids to say goodbye to the men, their necks all covered by their shirt collars. As my mother and I stood in front of my father's coffin I heard her sobbing softly as she had been for days, but I had no tears. I wanted to because my heart ached for my father but I was overwhelmed by another feeling, a feeling that his death was necessary. I couldn't tell anyone, especially not my mother. This was the first of many years of dark thoughts like these and a lifetime of wondering where they came from.


	8. Seventh

**Seventh.**

With my father gone there was no reason to stay on the farm, we wouldn't have been able to keep up with the workload and couldn't afford to hire the necessary help. My mother sold off the land to our neighbors and we left Bulgaria for good. I haven't been back since. We traveled west to southern England, the area where my mother had grown up. Her family had long since departed but she could never get that area out of her mind. We bought a small plot of land that had a two room cottage that backed up to the forest. There was a rolling hillside covered in flowers that reminded me of our farm, and when you walked up to the top of the hill there was a 360 degree view of the English countryside, it was stunning.

After just a few weeks the little cottage felt like home. We planted some ivy just outside the door which had already started climbing the walls. We built an outhouse and a small lean-to for firewood to keep it dry just behind the house. I helped my mother to clear the land around the house where the sunlight slanted in just right for a vegetable garden, and we planted fruit trees along the perimeter to provide shade in the summer heat. There was a small pen and chicken coop already on the property so we were able to keep some chickens, sheep, goats and pigs. Our horses Andrei and Kalina had their own private shelter nearby.

Though we were very happy, my father's memory was never far from our minds. When my ninth birthday came around, one year after his death, we celebrated with a special dinner for me, and then we each picked a bouquet of wildflowers, walked down to the creek and threw them in for him. When we returned to the cottage my mother handed me a small package wrapped in fabric with a red ribbon. I was surprised, traditionally we didn't exchange gifts, but she told me that it wasn't really from her.

I was confused but I untied the bow and carefully unfolded the fabric. There in my hand lay a small silver ring. It was unadorned, nothing special about it, but still beautiful. I rolled it between my fingers and looked up at my mother. She told me that she had found the ring tucked into the blanket that I was wrapped in that first night. It was a gift from my birth mother, and it was only right that I have it. My mother pulled out a thin braided strap of leather, put the ring on it and hung it around my neck. There it still remains to this day. The leather strap wore out long ago, but the ring still rests on my chest on a silver chain, just above my heart.


	9. Eighth

**Eighth.**

As time wore on the pain of losing my father dulled. My mother and I fell into a daily routine that changed only with the seasons. On warm nights we would climb the hillside and watch the sky burst into an artist's palette of colors as the sun sank slowly behind the distant sea. I still think of her every time I see a sunset, as the sun disappears and blinks its last few slivers of sunlight I imagine that it is my mother winking at me from heaven. Sometimes I would slip silently out of the cottage before first light and climb the hillside to see the sun rise from the opposite side of the world, feel the warmth of its first few rays, and enjoy the silence and solitude of the beginning of a new day.

Late into my fourteenth year I started to notice differences between my mother and I that went beyond hair and eye color. My mother stood at least three inches taller than me and was slender and sleek. My body was shorter, my shoulders broader and my frame more stocky. Mother always told me that I was beautiful, no matter what, but it made me a little uncomfortable when I we would walk through town and I would see people staring. I could imagine what they were thinking, but I tried to hold my head up high, be proud of who I was I would have time to degrade myself about it later in the privacy of my bedroom. My mother had given me the bedroom and set up a smaller bed for herself in the main room. She thought a girl my age probably needed her privacy and I was so very thankful.

About twice every week my mother and I would walk into town to trade eggs and wool for textiles, sugar and other necessities. We had ample amounts of fruits and vegetables so we would set-up a stand each Saturday and sell our surplus. It brought in a little extra money and allowed us to mingle with our neighbors. Most of our customers were women, but occasionally a man would come by for some fruit to go with his lunch. It was in this way that I discovered the power of attraction, developed my first crush, and ultimately made my transition from child to young woman, and his name was Thomas.

Each week Thomas would come by the stand, strike up a conversation with my mother and sneak quick glances and crooked smiles my way. I was so taken by him that it was all I could do to blush and turn away. You can probably imagine my shock when he turned up on my doorstep with two bouquets of flowers one Sunday afternoon. I opened the door and my legs went numb, my heart beat so hard and fast that surely he could hear it. I felt warmth rising up my neck and color flooding my cheeks, but through it all he just stood there, smiling at me and greeting my mother. She looked over at me and recognition flashed across her face, her little girl was in the throes of her first crush. She took the flowers from him and told us to talk outside while she tidied up the room. With that I was sure that my heart had indeed stopped and I was about to faint dead away.

We stepped out the door into the sunlight and stood awkwardly with one another staring at the ground, occasionally looking up to catch one another's eye and smiling. Finally he broke the silence telling me that he couldn't wait another week to see me. I asked him why and a look of confusion crossed his face, he said that he couldn't say, all he knew was that he had to see me. I asked if he wanted to sit on the bench in the yard. We talked nervously for what seemed like an hour before my mother emerged from the house.

As she walked towards us, Thomas stood to allow her to sit. She asked him why he had come by on this day. Again a look of confusion, but then he said something that I will never forget. As my face flushed and butterflies danced in my stomach I heard Thomas ask my mother if she would be agreeable to his courting her daughter. My mother didn't appear surprised by this request, in fact she seemed thrilled. She granted Thomas' request and then she slowly rose and walked back into the house. Thomas looked down at me and asked if his courting me would be to my liking. I nodded, still in shock. He lifted my right hand and gently kissed the back. Then he bid me "adieu", which I understood to be French, and promised to be back the following day. I was still sitting on the bench in shock, staring at the path through the woods to the village when my mother called me to supper an hour later.


	10. Ninth

**Ninth.**

Thomas courted me for the next ten months and each time I saw him it stirred up emotions inside me that I never even knew existed. We were blissfully happy, the only thing that still bothered me was that whenever I asked him what drew him to me initially, he told me he couldn't say. It was confusing but I tried to let it roll off of my back. He loved me for whatever reason, and I wasn't going to ruin that because I loved him more than anything in the world.

It was early spring when he finally proposed, the flowers had just peeked out of their winter slumber a few days before. We were walking in the forest towards a small clearing that I had insisted was a fairy ring when we first moved into the cottage. It was a patch of the greenest grass I'd ever seen about ten feet across with tiny white and yellow flowers that bloomed each year without fail. Thomas had brought a blanket to sit on, and we stared into each other's eyes. He reached down and plucked a few of the flowers from the grass and gently placed them in my hair, it made me laugh. Then he pulled some of the longer grass and flowers and I watched as he made a tiny wreath. He looked at me again, very seriously, his hand sweaty and shaking took mine and he asked if I would do him the great honor of becoming his wife. Then he placed the wreath around my finger as I said yes through streams of happy tears.

We were married late in the summer. Thomas' parents were no longer alive, and his only sibling, a brother, had travelled to France a few years back and was yet to return. My mother was our only guest but I still felt like the Belle of the Ball. We had our first kiss in the shade of the fruit trees, in front of the ivy lined cottage on the edge of the woods. I couldn't have planned a more perfect day.


	11. Tenth

**Tenth.**

It wasn't long before I learned the unfortunate lesson about early stage pregnancy, morning sickness. At first I was sure that I had a little bug, then after a week of it, I was sure that I was going to die. I had never witnessed this before since my mother was never pregnant and none of the three of us could explain it. When we went to the doctor in the village he just laughed and congratulated me, and he told us to expect a new family member next spring. I remember exactly how I felt in that moment, a mix of panic and fear and elation and love washing over me in waves, and then I threw up.

Pregnancy was a roller-coaster that I couldn't get off of. One day I would be nauseous and weak, unable to leave the bedroom, the next I was glowing and running around the cottage, re-arranging furniture to fit a small crib that Thomas had built in the bedroom. I loved having my family all there under one roof, but there were times when I wished that I had someone to talk to who had been through this before, but I didn't want to upset my mother. When the pains began late one April night I was completely unprepared. I had no idea how much it would hurt, and the baby was facing the ceiling so I felt as though my back was breaking with each contraction.

It was all worth it when I looked down at my mother and she held up my perfect, pink, beautiful girl up for the first time. We all took turns holding her; I let my mother have her as long as she wanted because she had been dreaming of this day for most of my life. I wanted her and my daughter to have a special bond that I had never had with a grandmother.

After we passed her around and I fed her the first time she drifted off to sleep and we all rested along with her.

When we woke to her sweet little gurgles and sighs, Thomas asked me what I wished to name her. I had thought about it a lot and since I already bore my mother's name I thought that it would be appropriate for my sweet girl to also take her name. Rather than calling her Ellanore we settled on Madison Ellanorrah, my mother's maiden name and my name minus the hyphen. When we told my mother the baby's name she was touched, she hugged the baby close to her, thanked us, but then asked us what kind of a name Madison is for a girl. She said we shall call her Maddie; so the matter was settled, my mother's name would live on through another generation, and Madison would be referred to as Maddie from that day forward.


	12. Eleventh

**Eleventh.**

Maddie's first year seemed to go by so quickly. With three pairs of eyes, ears and hands all trained on her Maddie thrived. Some days when she was napping I would just stare down at her, amazed that I had a part in creating such a perfect person. Her ebony hair and crystal blue eyes caused people to turn and stare. She was a happy baby, smiling and giggling all the time, she hardly ever fussed. Thomas said that aside from her eyes he thought she looked just like me though I knew I wasn't half the beauty that she was.

One afternoon while I was sitting in the sun, shucking corncobs for supper I casually mentioned to my mother that I wondered if Maddie's looks came from my birth mother's side of the family, or my birth father's side. I noticed after a moment that my mother had become quiet all but for the squeaking of the leaves as she pulled them from the corn. I looked over at her but she averted my gaze. When I inquired to the reason she mentioned that it might be nice after supper if we went up to the hilltop together to watch the sunset and talk like we used to. Of course I agreed, some of my favorite memories were up there on that hilltop. I said that we could even bring Maddie to see her first sunset but my mother insisted that I leave her with Thomas this time.

As we finished up dinner and began clearing the table I became even more curious about this talk that she wanted to have in private. I quickly fed Maddie and then we started to make our way up the hill. My mother took her time, she wasn't as nimble as she used to be. We spread a blanket on the grass facing the west. It was getting cooler so we wrapped a second blanket around our shoulders and looked off into the distance. After a few moments I broke the silence, I had to know what was worrying my mother.

She took hold of my hand gently, rubbing her fingers back and forth across my skin and then she started to speak. She asked me if I remembered that day when I was four and I overheard my parents shouting which of course I did. She asked me if I had any idea what they were arguing about and I told her no, only that I thought it was about me and had felt guilty that I had caused a rift between them. She hugged me close and assured me that I had not caused the argument. They had been discussing my birth mother whose name was Katerina. My father had just told my mother that he hadn't been entirely truthful about what happened the night I was born.

I was shocked. My father had always prided himself on being an honest man. She went on to tell me that he had not met up with the girl on the side of the road as he had said. Katerina was the young daughter of his one-time employers, the Petrova's, and the reason he knew that she was pregnant and giving birth that night, the reason that he made sure that he was the one to collect me and take me away was because he was my birth father. He told her that it was a moment of weakness; he felt so badly that they couldn't have a baby of their own so when he found Katerina to be pregnant which would be a shame to the family and figured that they would surely give the baby away, he formulated a plan to bring his child home and raise it with his wife.

So it hadn't been me that they were arguing about, it was my birth mother. I looked up at my mother in horror as tears streamed down her cheeks. She had known all this time yet she still loved my father despite his indiscretion. She was a far better woman than I. If Thomas ever did that to me I would have thrown him out on his hide before he even finished his sentence. Once again I felt that my life was on shaky ground just waiting for the last shutter that would crumble my world as I knew it. That is when my mother told me that there was more. Katerina had not died that night and for all she knew it was possible that my birth mother was still alive; and with that the ground not only crumbled but it liquefied and sucked me down into the depths.

My mother never mentioned anything to Thomas and she told me that it should be my decision whether or not to tell him. I waited about a week and then stole him away while my mother looked after Maddie one afternoon. Thomas was shocked, not so much by the news, but that my mother had told me. My father was dead so it shouldn't even matter; why would she want to tarnish my image of the man that I had loved so much?

Thomas seemed upset and distracted and insisted that he needed to take a walk into town to clear his head. I was surprised at his wording because I remembered my mother saying the same thing about my father all of those years ago in Bulgaria. I returned to the cottage and told my mother what I had said to Thomas and about his reaction. She told me that there was no reason to worry, he would understand in time that it was important that I know where I came from. Thomas returned home about an hour later. When I tried to ask if he was okay he looked at me strangely and seemed confused; such a strange reaction from someone who had left here a short time ago very upset. For the rest of the night he seemed nervous and jumpy. When I mentioned this to him he said he was just tired, excused himself, and went to bed.


	13. Twelfth

**Twelfth.**

The subject of my father appeared to be closed and no one ever mentioned it again. By morning Thomas was back to normal and although it still weighed heavy on my mind, I was just happy that there were no more secrets between my mother and me. I watched her with Maddie and envied their bond. I never had a grandparent, both of my parents families were scattered across Europe so there was no way to know who was still alive and who wasn't.

As the day wore on Maddie became somewhat fussy. Normally my mother would take Maddie with her on her walks to the village so that all of her friends could see her and complement my mother on her beautiful grandchild. As my mother prepared to go I told her that I thought Maddie should probably stay with me that afternoon. She was fussing and I was having a hard time pacifying her. My mother agreed, kissed both me and Maddie on the forehead and walked out the door.

Maddie became more agitated with each passing hour, she wasn't feverish or hungry, and she wouldn't sleep or crawl around the yard in the sun. Just after dusk I was finally able to calm her enough that I could put her down to make supper. I was just finishing up when I realized that my mother hadn't returned from her walk. This was completely out of character for her; she was always home before dusk for she had a fear of the dark. Growing up I was never allowed out of the house when darkness fell, not even to go to the well for water.

I sent Thomas off with a torch to see if he could find her. Within a few minutes I heard his deep voice bellowing to me. When I opened the door to the cottage I saw my mother in his arms. She was white as a sheet and limp as a ragdoll. Thomas rushed her over to the bed; she was freezing cold to the touch. He placed her on the pillows and then let me in to see her. Her eyes were open but looked as though they were glazed over. She was breathing quick but shallow breaths and her heart was pounding. I pulled back the collar of her blouse and saw two small pinpricks. They were reddened but looked new.

After a while she seemed to snap out of the trance she was in. I asked her what had happened and she claimed not to know. I pointed out the marks on her neck but she said that a bug had gotten her. She closed her eyes and we let her rest. I sat up with her all night, in the morning she looked slightly better but still deathly pale, even her lips seemed white/grey in the morning sunlight. I fed Maddie and asked that Thomas take her out of the house for the day. He took her in his arms, but as he walked towards the door she started wailing, a cry that I had never heard from her before, it was frantic and desperate. He brought her back to me and I took her in my arms and rocked her. She quieted down but then when I walked towards the door she started up again.

My mother opened her eyes this time and told me to bring Maddie to her. I walked back to the bed and placed Maddie down next to my mother, and to my surprise the tears stopped, she put her fingers in her mouth and gazed up at my mother. I watched as my mother whispered to Maddie, I couldn't make out what she said but I knew it was in Bulgarian, not English. Then I watched as Maddie closed her eyes and cuddled up to my mother who fell asleep soon after.

Maddie stayed by my mother's side all day and throughout the night. As morning drew near I noticed that my mother's breathing was shallow again. I roused her and asked if she felt okay. She told me through gasps of air that she felt euphoric and better than she had since she was my age. I gripped her hand between mine and leaned in close. She told me that she loved me more than anything or anyone she had ever known. She was proud of the woman I was becoming and she knew that with my guidance Maddie would grow up to be every bit as incredible a woman as I was. She leaned in to kiss my head. I sunk my face into the blankets that covered her and suddenly felt her hand go slack. When I sat up I could see that she was no longer breathing, my mother was gone.


	14. Thirteenth

**Thirteenth.**

My reaction to my mother's death was very different than when I lost my father. She was my best friend, my lifeline. I couldn't imagine how I would survive living without her. We had never been apart for more than a few hours. I grieved in a way I never had. It was days before I emerged from my bed, I went through the motions of everyday life, but I felt an emptiness in my heart that refused to be filled. The only thing that brought me any joy was Maddie. She was starting to walk and so very proud of herself. She would take a few steps before her legs turned to jelly and she landed on her bottom. She never cried, she would just clap her hands and smile and try again.

I told myself that if my baby girl could pick herself up, dust herself off and try again with a smile on her face, who was I to wallow around due to circumstances beyond my control. Children teach us so much about ourselves. I picked Maddie up and twirled around the yard with her, and it felt good. I felt happy. The pain of losing my mother was still there, but I refused to let it control me anymore. I looked into Maddie's deep blue eyes and smiled; it was all going to be okay.


	15. Fourteenth

**Fourteenth.**

I was thankful for every day that I spent with Maddie as she grew. We walked up the hill and watched the sunsets just as my mother and I had. When she was old enough to have a conversation we would talk, she would tell me about the angels that slept on pillows made from clouds, the frog that she tracked from under our house all the way to the creek, and about the large patch of grass she stumbled upon in the woods with white and yellow flowers. One morning I woke her up early to come out and watch the sun rise from the other side of the world. She didn't speak to me then, just stared in awe at the ball of fire rising up between the hills.

Each morning after breakfast was eaten and beds were made I would pull Maddie onto my lap, run my fingers through her long silky hair and pull it up away from her face in pigtails with bows. Her hair always had such a special smell, one to which I have never found a comparable match. A mix of citrus and baby powder I suppose. Her dark hair would trail behind her in the breeze as she ran around the yard picking flowers, chasing chickens, catching grasshoppers, and occasionally helping with the chores. Every night when I tucked her in I thought there was no way that I could possibly love her more, but every morning when she would wake up and walk out of the bedroom rubbing her eyes in her pink night shirt my heart swelled. I would see her on her daddy's lap and think life could not possibly be any more perfect.


	16. Fifteenth

**Fifteenth.**

During the cold months of winter before Maddie turned four Thomas mentioned that he might like to have another baby. I was hesitant, it was hard enough keeping up with Maddie, never mind having to do so with a baby on my hip. I told him we could discuss it but that no decision need be made right away. We were still so young, we could wait a little longer. Thomas tabled the discussion and told me that he loved me no matter how large or small our family ended up. I knew that would not be the last I heard of this.

Thomas had moved Maddie's bed into the room and brought ours out into the main room so that we wouldn't keep her up with our talking and the fire burning. Late one February evening Thomas came home from town exhausted. He had been helping a friend put a new roof on his home, tiresome work. I asked him if he wouldn't mind if I stayed up a bit longer. I had fallen behind in my sewing and there were a lot of clothes requiring a mend. I wanted to put a dent in the work before bed. He said he didn't mind and started snoring almost instantly as his head hit the pillow. I chuckled as I walked across the room and unlaced his boots pulling them off of his feet and covering him with a quilt.

The fire was dying down and I couldn't see my stitches anymore. I had asked Maddie to bring in some firewood before dark but the wood bin was empty. I shoved my feet into my shoes, grabbed my coat and shawl and started making my way to the back of the house. The light from the house was too dim to help me see, but the moon was almost full and it was a clear night, it illuminated the yard and I could see well enough to get back to the wood.

I never heard them coming but suddenly I felt an icy cold hand over my mouth and an arm wrapping around my body and lifting me. I tried to scream, bite, kick, anything to get away, but the man was much too strong. I was caught and being dragged deeper into the woods. I looked back at the cottage, dim light coming through the windows and in an instant they were gone.


	17. Sixteenth

**Sixteenth.**

The man dropped my down on the circle of grass in the forest. It was covered in frost and prickly. He told me that if I screamed he would snap my neck, and judging by how strong and rough he was carrying me into the woods I knew he was more than capable. He told me to stand up and hold my hands together and he started wrapping a thick rope around my wrists. I tried to ask him what he wanted with me but he pretended not to hear. Once he had the rope tied tight he took a few steps back and nodded his head at something behind me.

I didn't have time to turn before I felt a thud on my lower back and heard a snap. My legs went limp and the man circled back around me to help keep me upright. I looked up into his eyes which had turned blood red and pronounced veins were forming below them. I heard a woman's voice telling him to back off, I was hers. Suddenly there was a wrist covering my mouth, I tasted blood but I couldn't shake it off. I had to swallow or I would have suffocated.

I tried to whip my head around to see her but she was too fast. I felt one arm wrap around my torso while her other hand cocked my head to the side. She was strong, I couldn't fight her. I felt two punctures on my neck and cried out. She lifted her head to get a breath and then dug her fangs even deeper into my flesh, piercing through the delicate vessels as she sucked at the blood. She only stopped for a moment. I felt her breath at my ear and heard her say, in perfect Bulgarian, "Goodbye my girl, we will meet again in another life." My eyes grew wide in horror and then all went black.


	18. Seventeenth

**Seventeenth.**

I awoke to find my hands freed from the rope, the pain in my back was gone and I could feel my legs and feet. It must have been a dream; but why was I laying in the woods on the grassy circle where Thomas proposed. I sat up and looked around, I didn't see Thomas anywhere. I turned around and to my horror I saw the man who had dragged me out there. There was a smaller man standing next to him and he appeared to be bleeding from a wound on the neck. I backed up to put more distance between the men and I. I was ready to turn and run until a slight breeze wafted through carrying the most glorious scent along with it.

The larger man pushed the other forward and he stumbled onto the grass on his knees. I moved forward to try and help him, but I found myself drawn to his neck wound. The scent was overpowering, the urge stronger than I and I didn't even have a moment to think before I found myself kneeling next to him, my lips to his neck. I pulled away, thoroughly disgusted in myself, I looked away but my eyes were drawn back. I felt a strange sensation in my gums, something happening below my eyes and without another thought I bit him. Just moments later he slumped over, I had killed him. I looked up to see if the man or the woman were near, I needed someone to tell me what had happened, but they were both gone.


	19. Eighteenth

**Eighteenth.**

I stumbled my way back towards the cottage as the moon light faded in and out through the clouds and the trees. It seemed like hours before I could finally make out the shape of the house in the distance. I yelled for Thomas as I tripped and slid over icy leaves and roots. I heard the front door slam open and Thomas' voice calling out for me through the dark. I shouted once more as I collapsed to the cold, wet ground.

He was at my side in seconds, trying to help me to my feet. As I rose he saw that there was blood on my face and my clothing. He asked me what had happened but I could no longer speak, sobs caught in my throat blocking out any words and tears streamed down my face. I felt light-headed and dizzy, I couldn't comprehend what had happened to me. Thomas wrapped an arm around my waist and rested my arm on his shoulders as we slowly walked towards the door.

Once there I asked him to get me a rag from inside to clean up. He went into the house and returned with a cloth and a lantern. As he walked closer it became clear that the blood that covered my face and chest was not my own, there were no cuts, no bruises, no signs of injury of any kind. I watched as his eyes grew large with recognition. He stopped a few feet away from me, dropping the cloth to the ground and quickly took a few steps back into the doorway. He suddenly found his voice and he started spitting words at me like a rabid animal.

Demon of the night, he called me, devil-spawn, Heathen. I was stunned and hurt by his words. What had made him say such awful things? I stood and started towards him but when I reached the doorway I found that I could no longer advance. He looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes and told me to be gone and never to return or he would hunt me down himself and kill me. I tried to convince him that he was hallucinating; it was me, Norrah, his beloved wife and mother to his child.

I looked into his blue eyes, pleading with him, but he twisted his face into a sneer as he spat out the word "vampire." He told me that I was no longer welcome in his bed, his home or in his life. He told me to never again approach his daughter, in fact, not even to think about her again. With that I felt a rage like I had never known boiling up inside of me. I tried to rush at him, not knowing what was driving this madness, only that all I could think about was biting him and killing him, but it was all for naught. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't seem to get in through the doorway.

Thomas stood just inside the doorway, far enough that I couldn't get to him through the invisible barrier. The rage turned to desperation, and desperation into pleading. I tried again to remind him of our unconditional love for one another and for Maddie. He looked me squarely in the eye and told me that he had never loved me, that our marriage and life together was all a sham. I felt as though daggers were piercing through my heart with each passing moment. I tried to ask him why he would say such mean-spirited and hurtful things and he just cocked his head to the side telling me that he couldn't say. He told me that I was to leave this place at once and never to return.

Just before he slammed the door in my face I heard that horrible word again, "vampire;" and with that my human life and everything I had ever known to be true turned to dust and flew away on a passing breeze. My family had been torn apart, the rug pulled out from under me, and there I was, cursed to spend the rest of eternity alone.


	20. Nineteenth

**Nineteenth.**

My father used to tell me stories about vampires. He said that the "demons of the night" would come out of hiding once the sun set and would seek out humans, bite them and suck their blood until they died. Then they would have to go back into hiding before the sun rose because if the sunlight touched their skin it would burn them alive leaving only a pile of ash as evidence of their undead existence. That was why I was never allowed out of the house after the sun set. The stories made me laugh, there was no such thing as vampires, and the sun wasn't hot enough to burn anything, it was too small. Besides, who would want to drink blood, I got some in my mouth once when I split my lip and the taste made me gag and wretch.

I went to the well to clean off my face, the man's blood had dried and cracked on my chin, there was blood on the collar of my shirt. After I was cleaned up I walked quietly around the back of the cottage to the little window in the bedroom. Thomas must have pulled the curtains, but there was a slit between the two that never closed completely. I gazed in at my sleeping child, her hair spread wildly around the pillow, her rag doll clutched in one hand and two fingers from the other hand in her mouth. The sheet had been kicked away and her dressing gown was askew. I could have stood there for hours watching her, in fact I probably did.

My heart ached in a way I had never felt before when I finally tore myself away from the window. I knew that I had to find shelter before the sun rose. I turned towards the woods and realized that I could see everything so clearly, the moon was now hidden behind a bank of clouds yet I could make out every branch, every leaf, I even thought I caught sight of a spider's web. What a relief that at least there was some benefit to this new circumstance.

I made my way farther from the house, past the grassy knoll and found an old overturned tree. The tree was huge and the roots had pulled up the ground with it creating a space that I could easily fit into, not be seen and avoid all contact with the sun. I settled in for the day and soon found myself drifting off to sleep.

Nightmares marred the day. I had dreams of bursting into my home and ripping Thomas to pieces, then grabbing Maddie and making a run for it. We would run far away and set ourselves up in a new life. It would have been a dream except the temptation overtook me and no matter how hard I tried to fight it I couldn't resist the urge for blood and I killed my precious child. The images played over and over in my head. At dusk I awoke, shaking and sweating despite the cool air. I wanted desperately to spend another night at Maddie's window, but I was far too frightened to risk hurting her.

I would have to resign myself to the fact that I was no longer a part of her life, and she could no longer be a part of mine. I became so emotional at the thought of living without her that I was incapacitated. I was sobbing and moaning, then a wail from the deepest, darkest part of my being streamed out of my mouth. It scared me, for a moment I didn't know that the sound had even come from me. It was the sound that every grieving mother makes, the death wail.

Two men happened to be nearby hunting, they heard my cries and came to investigate. I heard them coming and tried to muffle my sobs but it was too late, they were too close. As they came around the back of the tree they shined their torches towards me as I shielded my eyes. The older of the two men asked me what I was doing in there, was I hurt? I told them that no, I was not hurt physically. The younger man reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe my eyes. I took it and started to dry my tears but a faint smell made me stop.

I could smell blood and in one of the corners of the cloth and saw a small spot. I felt my teeth seemingly grow and the strange sensation under my eyes. When I looked up at the men they both gasped in horror. I flew up at them from the small hole and attacked each in turn, drinking until they were dry, killing them both. I dragged them deeper into the woods so that I wouldn't have to look at their white, lifeless bodies. When I turned the older man onto his back something struck me. I didn't know if it was the paler of his skin or the marks on his neck, but suddenly my mother's last days came flooding back to me. It hadn't been a bug bite on her neck…it was a vampire.


	21. Twentieth

**Twentieth.**

This new revelation meant that there must be another vampire around the area, or at least there was one a few years back. Maybe I could find them and get answers to all of the questions that swirled around in my head. All I knew of vampires were folklore and legend, stories that I thought my father had made up to discourage me from disobeying him and going outside of the house after dusk. There had to be more that I didn't know.

I spent half of my nights searching for the elusive night walker and the other half watching Maddie as she slept. As time went by she grew and became more beautiful with each passing day. One night when I got to her window and looked in I was shocked, for there in the bed where my sweet little baby had once laid was a young woman. She looked only a few years my junior. How had this happened? Full years had slipped away from me and my little girl was no longer little.

I noticed a bouquet of flowers on her bedside table but they were not the wild flowers that grew around the home, these looked expertly arranged and tied with a pink ribbon. Then it hit me, Maddie was being courted! She was sixteen years old by now and had found herself a young man. I wanted so badly to talk to her about him, what did he look like, where was he from, what were his intentions, and how was she feeling about all of this? But I knew that I could not. Maddie had not seen me since she was four years old. Her father told her that I had taken ill and died. They even had a funeral with an empty wooden box buried where my body should have been.

I gazed in at her, trying to work this all out in my mind. My child was grown-up and on the cusp of a new life. I lost track of time while I sat there and soon the first light of dawn started to peek out from behind the hills, but still I sat, in a trance, staring at my girl, until the crowing of a rooster snapped me out of it. I realized in horror that the sun was just about to rise. I ran as fast as I could to get back to the old tree but I knew I wasn't going to make it in time. I ran harder, pushing my out of shape body to its limit. I could see the tree in front of me, but it was already surrounded by a ring of light. I thought that if I could jump in quickly, maybe I wouldn't burn. I had no other choice. The sun was quickly creeping across the forest floor, so I made a run for it.

I tensed up and closed my eyes at the last moment, miscalculating the distance and landing hard on the ground, gashing my forearm on a fallen branch and landing right in the center of the sunlight. I rolled into a fetal position and started screaming, expecting pain to envelope my body, but after a few moments I realized nothing was happening. Cautiously I opened my eyes and unfolded my body, sat up and gazed around me. Sunlight flooded the forest and blanketed my skin in warmth. He was wrong, my father had been wrong about vampires. We could in fact walk in the sunlight. This was going to open up a whole new world to me.

I looked at my right forearm at the gash, bleeding onto the leaves. It hurt, but not as much as it should have, the branch had cut deep. I walked farther into the woods to a small creek to clean it off. I was able to stop the bleeding but it still looked pretty gruesome. As I tried to figure out what I could use to wrap it I thought to myself how nice it would be if it just healed itself, quickly, leaving no mark, for there would no doubt be a nasty scar left behind. I looked back down at my arm and gasped. As I watched the skin began to close over the wound and pain subsided. In less than a minute it was gone without any evidence that it had been there except for the blood on my torn sleeve.

It made no sense, how did that happen. I picked up a stone and make a small nick in the back of my right hand. I watched it bleed and clot just as my arm had. I stared and stared waiting for it to heal, but it didn't. I sat down and tried to think about that I had done that made this any different from the gash on my arm. Cradling my wounded hand in my lap I looked towards the sky and closed my eyes, willing the pain away and the cut to heal. I opened my eyes in time to see the last of the redness dissipate and any trace of the cut disappear. So I wouldn't burn in the sun, and I couldn't really be hurt. I was starting to think that this life might not be so bad…


	22. Twenty First

**Twenty First.**

I continued to hunt and watch over Maddie at night, resting in the sunlight during the day. I had learned how to drink from a human without killing them. I discovered a way make them forget what had happened so no one would find out my secret. Maddie was soon engaged and early one evening I overheard her, Thomas, and her fiancée whose name was Daniel discussing plans for a wedding ceremony. I may have to remain in the shadows, but there was no way I was missing her wedding.

When the day finally arrived I was so excited for Maddie that I was alternating between laughing and crying all morning. I ran around my little house that I had compelled a group of men to construct for me years before, searching for a special dress that I planned to wear. It was simple cotton, no frills, but the color, a deep blue that matched Maddie's eyes, was striking. I knew no one would see me, but I couldn't resist dressing the part of Mother of the Bride. I laced baby's breath into my hair and as I always did before leaving the house, I pulled the silver ring that hung from my neck, kissed it, and tucked it back into my dress.

I stood less than 30 yards away as my daughter became a wife. I heard every word of the ceremony as if I was standing in my rightful place on Maddie's left side. I watched through the trees as they shared their first kiss with one another. Maddie hugged Daniel's parents as he shook Thomas' hand. My entire body flared with anger that I couldn't run out and embrace them. I watched as my beautiful girl retreated into the cottage with her husband, Thomas was staying in the village for a few days with friends to allow them time alone.

I didn't go to the window that night as Maddie lay in bed with her new husband. I tried to stay away the following day as well. I walked to the creek in the morning to wash up and have a drink. As I got close I saw something unusual, from afar it looked like a man's clothing bunched up near the creek bed. I rushed forward and realized that the owner was still in the clothing, his head submerged in water, no signs of life. I pulled his head out but it was far too late, his face was blue, lips and cheeks swollen out with water, I almost didn't recognize him except for his eyes. Though clouded over I could still see the bright blue peeking through. It was Thomas, he was dead.

I yelled back towards the cottage for Daniel and as soon as he started towards the creek I ran. I couldn't let him see me, it was better that he find Thomas himself. I hid behind a large tree and listened as he came upon Thomas and realized what had happened. Daniel looked around for the source of the shouting but saw no one. He picked up Thomas' body and carried it back to the cottage. Then he went inside to tell Maddie the bad news. I ran as far as I could before he told her, I couldn't stand by and listen as her heart broke for her father. I stayed away after that, I didn't attend the burial. Thomas was gone, my child was a grown woman and I was once again aware that I was all alone.


	23. Twenty Second

**Twenty Second.**

I stayed in the area for years, watched from afar as Maddie and Daniel started a family, three children toddling around in the yard by the time they were through. I loved seeing Maddie pregnant, she didn't just glow, she radiated. That girl was born to be a mother. I got to see my grandchildren grow, two young ladies courted and married, a handsome young man making advances on his own girl. Then one day a new child. Maddie's oldest daughter, the one I felt most resembled me gave birth in the same bed that her mother had been born in; another stunning little girl.

I watched as Maddie grew older and more feeble. Daniel passed away in his early fifties in his sleep. Maddie was devastated, she spent days sitting by his grave, talking to him. After a time she came out to the graveside less and less until she came out only a few times a year. Maddie spent her days sewing and knitting, watching the little ones running in the yard. One winter day when she was in her early sixties, Maddie developed a cough, it seemed innocent enough until she coughed so hard one night that she cracked her ribs. Large, dark bruises wrapped around her abdomen and she was in so much pain. I sat outside of her window at night, cracked it open ever so slightly and sang to her as she slept, it seemed to relax her the way it did when she was little.

The cough eventually subsided but it had weakened her. If the day was warm enough she would ask her son to carry her out to the bench to sit in the sun, but most of the time she stayed indoors in her bed or in a chair by the fire. I continued to visit in the night and sing to her. Then one night late in March as I peered in the window I saw that her entire family surrounded the bed. A man stood over her saying a blessing as the family stood by. Once the man left some of the younger children were taken home. Late that night as her daughter slept in a chair next to her bed Maddie took her final breath, she closed her eyes and the room went silent. I let a sob escape which stirred my granddaughter who realized her mother had slipped away and as she sat there in the little cottage and cried, I did the same just outside the wall.


	24. Twenty Third

**Twenty Third.**

The day of Maddie's burial my eyes ran dry. I had been crying for two days and I thought that I had no tears left to cry. I dressed in all black with a black veil over my face. I didn't care who saw me today, I was going to be at that graveside no matter what. I rubbed my fingers over the old silver ring, praying for strength. No parent should ever have to see their child buried. Children buried their parents; that was the natural order of things. This was all part of the curse, I was forced to watch everyone I loved die. It was a cruel fate that I would never wish on anyone.

I got to the graveside early; the gravediggers had finished their job and were just standing around so I compelled them to leave so I could have a moment alone with Maddie. After they were out of sight I crouched down next to the coffin and opened the cover. I stared down at an old woman, her grey hair piled up atop her head and pinned in place, wrinkled skin covering her hands and neck, age spots on her neck and cheek; but despite the way that her body looked, when I looked at her I still saw my beautiful little girl with ebony hair, deep blue eyes and a smile that lit up a room.

I reached up and caressed her cheek. I hadn't touched her in over sixty years and suddenly the tears returned and flowed violently. I reached up to her head and pulled the pin from her hair. I ran my fingers through it so that it spread over the pillow her head rested on the way it had when she was little. I heard the family starting up the hill towards us. I whispered to Maddie that I had never stopped loving her, not for one moment. I told her how proud I was of the woman and mother she came to be. Finally I said that I hoped to be with her again someday and asked her to wait for me. I loved her more than anything else in the world and beyond. I bent down and kissed her on her forehead. The family was coming close and I knew I had only a few fleeting moments. I looked down at my girl one last time and then did the hardest thing I would ever have to do. I closed the lid of the coffin. I would never see my daughter again.


	25. Twenty Fourth

**Twenty Fourth.**

In the years that followed Maddie's death I became a recluse. I travelled around different parts of Europe but stayed hidden in the shadows. I found that I could drink the blood of wild animals to sustain myself so I wouldn't have to hurt humans. Early in the seventeenth century I decided it was time to come out of hiding. I knew that I could live undetected amongst humans as long as I didn't kill. I chose a small hamlet just outside of London to rejoin civilized society. I was able to secure a home and even meet some of my neighbors. The problem was that after three or four years without aging people started to notice and I had to move on to avoid suspicion. The humans were getting smarter. I overheard a whispered conversation in a pub one night. They knew we existed and that we could be identified by our night walking, cold body temperature and fast healing ability.

I couldn't keep from laughing at just how wrong they were. I walked in the day, my skin was warm and I had learned how to turn my healing off and on like a switch. These men couldn't have been more wrong about vampires. It was sad, if any vampires came into town the men would surely be a target with those kinds of beliefs. I sat with my mug of tea giggling, but suddenly I felt someone's eyes on me. I whipped my head around and found myself staring into the face of a man I had seen before, the one who had played a part in turning me.

He sat in the empty chair next to me and ordered a drink. When he turned back he had a somber look on his face. He was surprised that I was still alive, that meant that she had been right. I was confused, it meant who was right? Was he talking about the vampire who turned me, the one whose voice I heard right before she killed me? Who was that, I still didn't know but he must since they had worked as a team. He had to tell me. He looked at me strangely. He didn't realize that I didn't know who that other vampire was. I watched as his face softened and he leaned in close to whisper. The woman who killed me, turned me into a monster was my own birth mother, Katerina Petrova. She was a vampire.


	26. Twenty Fifth

**Twenty Fifth.**

I had so many questions. Telling me that my birth mother had turned me opened a Pandora's Box that was meant to be destroyed. The man told me that we couldn't talk in the pub, there were too many ears. He asked me to meet him in a more remote location the following evening and he would bring all of the information he had collected with him. I wasn't sure what he meant by information, but I could barely sleep that night. I was finally going to get answers to questions I had kept inside for centuries.

When dusk finally fell the next day I followed the directions that he gave me. They led me down a long dirt path and up to the door of a cabin. There were no detectable lights on and the windows were covered in thick black material. I knocked, not really expecting anyone to answer, so it startled me when the door swung open. I saw the man s outline in the dark room and started to ask why he didn't open the windows. He chuckled at that as he lit a fire and motioned for me to sit in a chair nearby. I noticed a small stack of papers opposite me on a small table.

After the fire was lit and the room started to warm up the man stood, he walked towards me with his hand outstretched and introduced himself as Laird. Then he sat back in his chair and started to organize the papers in front of him. I could see scribbles and print, smudges and graphs but I couldn't see what they said. I asked him what all of this had to do with me. He looked up and smiled, this information didn't just have to do with me, but that it _**was**_ me. I wasn't the average everyday vampire. I looked at him, still puzzled and he laughed, obviously I hadn't met any other vampires or I would have known right away. I was the only living vampire turned by a birth parent. I was a Unique.


	27. Twenty Sixth

**Twenty Sixth. **

I knew that he sensed that I had no idea what he was talking about, so he just continued. It turns out that after the Original family was turned and their mother, the original witch, realized that she had created a race of homicidal monsters she knew that she couldn't let this happen to any more parents. She created a spell that would bring death to any parent who tried to turn their child. When one dies, they both die; neither could survive without the other. The "law" stipulated that if a parent tried to turn their child it would cause an imbalance in their blood, two thirds would belong to one parent and only one third to the other. When this happens, death will quickly follow.

As far as Katerina and myself, my birth mother was very intelligent as well as cunning and she thought she might have found a loophole but she was hesitant to try it out on her and me. Instead she would turn single parents who would then in turn feel obligated to turn their children. The first few times the child would last no longer than a few hours, but in that time she would study their behavior because there were notable differences in the children. Not only could they walk in the sun, but they were faster and stronger than their parents. When wounded the children had to concentrate to initiate healing and their skin was warmer to the touch than their parents. Once the child died the parent would quickly follow.

Katerina then tried out her theory. She turned a single mother and manipulated her into turning her young daughter. The only difference this time was that Katerina had the mother feed her daughter her blood, and then drink every drop of her child's blood instead of killing her quickly by snapping her neck. When the little girl awoke and was fed human blood she lived. She didn't have any of her father's blood running through her veins, only her mother's. The girl lived for months under Katerina's careful watch, as did her mother. One evening, while the girl prepared supper she suddenly clutched her chest and collapsed. Katerina rushed to her, something had gone wrong. She ran out to find the girl's mother who turned up about a half-mile away with a wooden stake through her heart. They shared the same blood and therefore shared the same fate, one cannot live without the other.

I tried to process what he was telling me, so much information all at once. So I was a different kind of vampire all together, one that had never truly existed before and should not exist now. I was truly one of a kind. He smiled back at me and nodded. That is why I was called a Unique, a child born of two parents but reborn from only one.

There had to be more, as opposed as I was to her methods, Katerina had found out a great deal about Unique's in a short time. He looked away from me, over towards the fire. Although there was obviously a way for a Unique child to live, there was also a very specific way in which they die. Only two things can kill a Unique, either someone kills Katerina which would in turn kill me, or I would have to die at her hand. There was no other way. She had tried stakes, daggers, werewolf bites, fire, even ripping one child's heart out, but it just grew back. Uniques could only die if the parent dies or kills them, plain and simple.

So if Katerina was to stake me or rip my heart out, for instance, then I could die because it would be at her hand. Laird nodded sadly, he knew that Katerina would never do such a thing knowing that she would die as well, so my life depended on her staying alive. What a horrible twist of fate. I had never even laid eyes on this woman who held my life in her hands.

One of the advantages to being a vampire was the ability to turn off one's emotions. It was like a switch that you could toggle on and off. The problem was that Uniques did not possess this ability, Laird looked sympathetic as he told me this, you will have to live your life with that part on as well as magnified so be careful, emotion could destroy a vampire from the inside out. Also, he told me, I would be wise to avoid an herb known as vervain. It is toxic to normal vampires but would affect me ten times as badly. If it got into my system it could knock me out for days so I needed to avoid it at all costs.

Laird had told me all he knew, he stood and shook my hand, he then took the stack of papers that contained all of Katerina's research and burned them. He apologized for his part in my death and said that he hoped I could someday forgive him. I left the cabin and returned to my home to think about what I would do next. When I took off my shawl in the small entranceway I noticed a piece of paper sticking out of one of the pockets. In scratchy handwriting it said "Katerina Petrova, a.k.a Katherine Pierce has gone to the New World. Go there and you will find her."

The following morning as I walked into town I noticed a large group of people standing around. I walked over to see what they were looking at, and there, lying on the cobblestones with a large wooden stake in his chest lay Laird. He risked his life to give me that information the previous day and he lost. I knew that I had to get as far away from England as possible, so I compelled myself passage on the next pilgrimage trip to America.


	28. Twenty Seventh

**Twenty Seventh.**

I came to America by way of the Massachusetts colonies. Plymouth bored me so I left in search of somewhere to set up a home base. The area that would later become the southwestern border of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts provided the perfect setting for me. The woods were deep and thick, and more importantly wild animals were abundant. I worked tirelessly to build a small home, I had learned a lot about home construction over the years, and my magnified strength allowed me to craft the necessary tools from the resources I had available to me. It wasn't as attractive as my English cottage, but it seemed to withstand the ever-changing weather in this region quite well.

It was years before the settlers pushed inland to where I was living. At first it was just a few families, most had stayed near the coast, determined to grow profitable crops, but these families were hunters more than farmers and there was ample game about those woods. I was happy to see the humans for I had been living in solitude for so long that I had begun talking to myself just to conserve my voice. It would be nice to have neighbors to talk with again.

One of the first families in the area was a slightly older couple and their youngest daughter who appeared to be not much younger than I did. Their older children had all married and started lives elsewhere, but their youngest was yet to find a suitor. We became fast friends, bonding over the fact that we were both just a few years away from being declared spinsters; that just made us giggle.

Her name was Alexia Branson. She and I spent many of our days together, walking through the woods, talking about almost everything under the sun. She asked me how I had come to live alone and I told her that my husband had drowned and my daughter died in her sleep. I didn't, however, divulge their ages when they died, so she just assumed that Maddie was only four, and I let her. I soon found that her problem with suitors wasn't that she hadn't had any but that she had rejected all offers. She knew that when the time was right she would meet the man that she would want to stay with forever. Forever is a long time I told her and she just smiled.

For three years Alexia and I were the best of friends, but I knew that I would have to move on soon and leave her. The thought broke my heart. Alexia was the first person that I had made a true human connection with in over a century and I didn't know if I could stand to lose her too. One day late in the autumn 1659 Alexia came running towards my house to tell me of yet another suitor that she had turned down. I had packed us a picnic lunch to take to the nearby park area that the town had set up. I needed to tell her I was leaving.

We settled in a quiet corner of the park and started unpacking our lunch. I waited until the right moment, but they all seemed wrong, there wasn't going to be a good moment to tell her good-bye. I started by telling her that she was the best friend that I had ever had, one of my only friends in fact. When we were together I felt like I had a sister. Then I told her the bad news. I had to leave, I had gotten word of a distant family member who had set up a home in the Virginia colony and I needed to go down there to be with her for a while. I watched as Alexia's face crumbled.

She spent two hours crying and trying desperately to get me to change my mind. I cried with her, but insisted that I had to go. I would be leaving the following morning, early, so we would have to say goodbye today. When Alexia finally calmed down and stopped crying she embraced me. She told me to come back as soon as I could, she would be waiting, and that I needed to write her often for she would be so dreadfully lonely. We sat in silence for a few moments and then she stood suddenly and ran off towards her home. I gathered up the blanket and the uneaten lunch and left the park.


	29. Twenty Eighth

**Twenty Eighth.**

It didn't take me long to pack, I was going to leave most of my things there as I had compelled myself a caretaker to keep an eye on things. I planned to come back now and then to check on everything. I was just finishing up my last walk through and gathering my things when I heard what sounded like a cry out in the woods. I paused only for a moment to listen but heard nothing. I picked up my bags and walked out the door, placing them on the ground while I locked up. Suddenly I heard the sound again, and then my name. It was Alexia.

I ran towards her calling out to her as I ran. I heard her desperately crying for help. I reached her in seconds but I had not expected what I found. There, lying on the ground with a fallen branch impaled through her midsection lay my dear friend. The bleeding was intense and she could barely open her eyes. I looked down by her feet which weren't moving and saw the log she tripped over. She must have been running to try one last time to convince me to stay.

There wasn't time to worry about that, I had to get her off of the branch. I tore a large section off of my dress and split it in two so that I could try to contain the bleeding once the branch was out. I stood over her and pulled the branch free then trying desperately to get the bleeding to stop. I couldn't fix the problem, her spine had cracked and even if she lived she would never walk again. Without thinking I bit into my wrist and held it to her mouth. Her eyes opened wide and I told her to please swallow. I watched as her throat constricted but before I could remove my hand she started choking. She had only swallowed a small amount and the rest had drained to her lungs.

I held her head in my lap as her human life slipped away. I had done the unthinkable, and now if she awoke she would have to make an impossible decision. I picked her up and carried her limp body back to my home. I set her up in the bed and cleaned her up as best I could. Then I waited, running through my story over and over again, trying to figure out what she would think of me when she found out the truth. I was plagued with guilt, and now because of me my dear, sweet Alexia would have to make a decision to die or live a cursed life as a vampire. I laid my head down on the mattress and sobbed.

A few hours later after I had exhausted myself crying I saw the first signs of life from Alexia. Her fingers started to move and then her eyes fluttered open. I grabbed her hand and kissed it as a new wave of tears came over me. I waited until she was fully conscious and then I unloaded, I told her everything, about my past, my family, Laird, and even my evil bitch vampire birth mother who had stolen my life, killed everyone I loved and then ran. When I finished I looked up at her, expecting to see fear and hatred, but instead I saw sympathy, empathy, even a few tears.

I told Alexia that she had to make a choice, and that I could not help her or discourage her from choosing one over the other. I explained that she was now in transition and she would have to decide if she wanted to die, peacefully in bed with me by her side, or become a vampire and lead a cursed life. She looked at me for a moment and then asked if I really had any family in Virginia to go to. I told her no, I just needed a reason to leave, and people would soon notice that I wasn't aging. She nodded her head and looked down at her hands. Well that settled it in her mind, she would not leave me to live out my life alone. Everyone needed someone so she would come with me.

I had told her that I wouldn't discourage her, but in my mind I pleaded with her to reconsider. I knew even if I had said it out loud my argument would be futile. Once Alexia Branson made a decision to do something, she did it and nothing could change her mind. I took her hand and led her out into the night. It didn't take long to find a young hunter who had lost his way. I apologized to him before attacking. I left the puncture marks for Alexia to drink from. She cautiously approached him and then nature took over. She took a few small sips, raised her head and I watched as her fangs descended and her eyes changed to that of a monster. She sucked him dry and we left him there in the woods as we went back home.


	30. Twenty Ninth

**Twenty Ninth**

We had to wait another day before we could leave because unlike me Alexia couldn't walk in the sun. As the sunlight faded into dark I asked her if there was anything she wanted to get before she left, but she said no. Her parents were probably out looking for her anyway and she didn't want to risk getting caught. We slipped out the door and into the forest to begin our long journey together; it was so nice to finally have a companion.

As years went by I taught Alexia what I knew about vampires and explained that she and I had different abilities. I taught her to hunt large game in the woods because the smaller the animal, the weaker she would be. The blood would sustain her but at a cost. She could tolerate this diet when she had no other choice, but when an opportunity to get human blood arose she couldn't fight the urge to indulge. I didn't judge her, I knew that the craving for human blood was just one of the differences between she and myself, besides, I could drink from animals and it didn't affect my strength.

For two centuries we travelled all over the country, following homesteaders out west and then circling back towards our east coast roots. We went back to Massachusetts a number of times over the years. Alexia would go out to the graveyard some nights to visit with her parents while I found another human caretaker for the house. Everything worked out so well for us. We weren't together all the time, there were a few years here and there when we would separate, but always only for a short time before we missed each other and reconnected. We had a lot of wonderful times.

When war broke out between the north and the south we found ourselves recruited as nurses. We would bandage the wounded soldiers and the ones that were too badly wounded we would drink of their blood, in a way it was a mercy killing. There were plenty of wounded men to go around for a time, but as the battles raged on we found that we were having to follow the wounded further and further from home. Along the way we met up with a young vampire named Edmund. He told us about an area in Virginia where vampires were living alongside their human counterparts and that they were prospering.

Alexia got very excited about this strange place, Mystic Falls, as Edmund had called it, but I wasn't convinced. We discussed the possibility of going down together, but I wanted to stay closer to the big cities in the north. I told her that if she wanted to go she should, but to be sure and write me when she was settled. Alexia and I had spent most of our lives together, but we hadn't encountered that many other vampires along the way. I was nervous about her going into an area with a known large population of vampires.

It turned out that my fears were unfounded because when Alexia arrived in Mystic Falls in 1865 almost all of the vampires were gone. It was said that they had been rounded up by the founding families and burned in the church. Thank goodness we didn't rush down there when we first spoke with Edmund otherwise we could have been in that church along with them. For the time being it seemed that Alexia was safe.


	31. Thirtieth

**Thirtieth.**

Without Alexia around I was very lonely. I took to my cabin for months, even years, at a time, leaving only to hunt and collect my mail. We wrote one another often, sometimes two, three times a week. I had little to say and I'm sure it bored her to read my ramblings, but her life had taken an interesting turn. When she arrived in Mystic Falls she happened upon an area that was set aside as a hospital of sorts, like the ones we were used to, where all of the men wounded in what would later become known as "The Battle of Willow Creek" were brought, many to die. It was here that she met a young man who was in desperate need of an intervention, a "ripper," a vampire who was everything bad about the species. It was here that she met Stefan Salvatore.

I loved reading Alexia's letters; she would tell me all about how she was helping Stefan to become a better man, a better vampire, one of the good ones as she called it. She drove him crazy, never letting him out of her site for a second. She was having the time of her life caring for Stefan and her letters always made me laugh, not because of what she was doing, or his reaction to it, but because much of what she taught him was what I remembered teaching her, and she had been just as stubborn at times. If I could get Alexia Branson to obey and follow the rules, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that she would do the same for Stefan.

In the late 1800's, on an otherwise normal spring evening as I sat outside of the cabin re-stringing one of Alexia's old corsets I saw a figure coming towards me on the dirt path. The sun had set and there were shadows creeping slowly across the ground. I could make out the shape of a dress, but little more. I put down the corset and stood slowly. In a blur the woman ran behind me, taking my hair in her hand and pulling my neck towards the ground. I heard a hissing sound and looked up into her face. I was speechless.

Alexia hadn't told me that she was coming and the smile on her cherubic face brought tears to my eyes. It had been almost twenty-five years since I had seen her. I twisted easily out of her grasp and embraced her around the neck as my tears fell on her neck. I didn't want to let her go in fear that she would run, and she let me stay like that for almost five minutes before pulling away. She grabbed my face in her hands telling me just how much she had missed me.

I didn't know how long her visit would last so I was determined to make the most of every moment. She told me all about her life over the last two and a half decades. It took days for her to tell me everything and I hung onto every word. She tried to convince me that she was here to stay for now and she had no plans to leave. This place was our home for now and forever. If only forever was as long as it sounded.

We settled back into a comfortable routine of hunting at night and sleeping during the day, as long as we had one another we didn't need to worry about what the townsfolk thought of us.

While Alexia had been gone I had spent a lot of time thinking about my birth mother. We hadn't talked much about her, it was the one little bit of information that I had kept to myself, but I needed to talk about it. Alexia was a sympathetic ear most of the time, but the little I had told her about Katerina hadn't exactly been complimentary and she made it clear that she didn't think Katerina deserved to know me; but I deserved a chance to meet her.

When I brought the subject up again she listened for a short time, I saw a flash of what appeared to be recognition cross her face when I told her that Katerina had Americanized her name and was now known as Katherine Pierce. She looked up at me and repeated the name, Katherine Pierce, in a very questioning tone. I nodded as her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed. She looked up at me and said that she had heard that name before, with Stefan, he had told her that a vampire named Katherine Pierce had turned him but that she had died in the fire at the old church in Mystic Falls.

I thought about this for a minute. She couldn't be dead, I was still alive. Maybe Laird had been wrong, maybe I didn't have to die when Katherine did. If that was the case, that meant that the only person on this entire planet who could end my suffering was gone and I was doomed to spend the rest of eternity here, without my parents, without my daughter. That was a burden far too heavy to bear. It brought tears to my eyes. Alexia saw my reaction and tried to comfort me, she apologized for telling me, she thought I would be happy. Katherine had always been a thorn in my side that I couldn't reach to remove and now the thorn might be gone for good but the wound was far from healed.

I spent a few days in a haze, walking around the house like a zombie, feeding only to avoid the pain of hunger. I told Alexia the rest of the story so she would understand that it wasn't her fault I was upset, I wasn't mad, I was just disappointed. She comforted me as best she could and promised she would stay with me forever so that I would never be alone.

A few days later, Alexia returned from the town with some unexpected mail. We had always written each other when we were apart, but when we were together we didn't receive the post. No one else knew where we were or knew us well enough to need to write. The letter in her hand was written in a mysterious handwriting and a wax seal on the back bore an unfamiliar symbol.

It was addressed to Alexia, not me, but she had waited until arriving home to open it. She slid her finger under the seal and pulled out a small piece of paper. As she unfolded it we saw that it wasn't really a letter, just a few words scrolled out. A warning would be the more accurate description I suppose. The paper just said: KEEP YOUR DISTANCE. We were both confused, I looked at the envelope. It was just common paper, nothing special. The wax seal had fallen to the floor; I stooped down to pick it up and walked to the kitchen to dispose of them. I ran my finger over the seal before tossing it into the fire. Looking at it in the brighter light I was struck by something. Hidden within the swirls and swoops were two letters, K.P…Katherine Pierce! So she wasn't dead…and she knew where we were…

I didn't tell Alexia what I had seen, I threw the wax into the fire and it melted away. I was frightened. Katherine had already killed almost everyone I loved. I knew not to take her threats lightly. I had to send Alexia away for I couldn't risk her getting hurt, or worse. It was 1920, the world around us was changing, there were better forms of transportation, getting around was far easier than it had been in the past. Alexia needed to get as far away as possible.

It had been thirty years since Alexia had lived in the Salvatore boarding house with Stefan. She usually went to find him every few years to make sure that he had not returned to his old ways. I casually brought up the subject to her one day. She looked at me sideways and asked if I was trying to get rid of her. I laughed nervously, no, of course I wasn't. She didn't even look up when she told me that I was. I wanted to explain, but she seemed to know before I said a word. Our bond was very strong. We didn't have to speak to one another to understand what the other was thinking. She didn't want to leave, she was afraid I would be in danger, but I reminded her that the threat was directed to her, not me, and she reluctantly agreed to go.

The timing seemed to be fortuitous as Stefan had fallen even deeper into his grief and despair this time. He was wiping out entire communities. He needed Alexia more than I did; and, as if on cue, I received another warning letter from Katherine: KEEP QUIET AND NO HARM WILL COME TO YOU OR YOUR RECENTLY DEPARTED LITTLE FRIEND. So not only did Katherine somehow know where I was, she also knew that Alexia was not with me for now. I hoped that this didn't mean that she was finally planning to make an appearance. Besides that, I was well over four hundred years old and did not appreciate being threatened. I had to get out of there, fast.

I spent most of the twentieth century travelling around to all of the places Alexia (who now insisted on being called "Lexi" which I refused to do) and I had been centuries ago. I bought a car and drove Rt. 66 from east to west and back again. When Alexia met up with me in the late 40's we partied like we never had before. We each took a turn going over Niagara Falls in a barrel, took swan dives off of each of the heads of Mt. Rushmore, scaled the Statue of Liberty in the middle of the night to watch a meteor shower, even spent a few months at the Playboy mansion, wining and dining with Hef and the gang. He liked Alexia; she was mysterious and would only come out at night. She would still visit Stefan periodically, but it seemed that he might finally be on the right track so she didn't feel the need to stay.

On New Year's Eve 1999 we cut power lines at midnight and listened as people screamed thinking the world was coming to an end. We laughed together and cried together, it was the best time of my life. I knew that it couldn't last forever though. Alexia loved me, I was her family, but I could sense that she wanted more. She was looking for love, and I was holding her back. She needed me to tell her it was okay before she would go. I had been the one to turn her. It was after all partly my fault that she had never known the love of a man. I owed it to her to let her go, and I told her this. She left me in 2005, I would see her again, but I knew that our time together was coming to an end. I just didn't realize how final that would soon become.


	32. Thirty First

**Thirty First.**

It had been almost ninety years since I last heard from Katherine. I had returned to my home a few times but there was no further contact. The last time I went back I met with a contracting company who wished to buy my land for a big construction project. I signed the papers and collected a large sum of money. I returned to my cabin only one more time to collect the last few things that meant anything to me. Before I left for good I tore the house down myself, all that was left was a pile of logs, stones and a large mattress. I would have burned it all, but the entire forest would have gone up with it, so I just left it for the men to take care of and fled Massachusetts.

I was able to keep in contact with Alexia now by phone and email so it wasn't as imperative that we know each other's exact location. She told me that she had met a man and fallen in love, but he was human. She wanted my opinion about turning him, but I refused to give it to her. All that I would tell her was to think about her life over the last three hundred fifty years and consider whether or not it was in his best interest. I later heard through a network of trustworthy comrades that she did in fact turn him so that they could be together forever.


	33. Final

**Final.**

It happened in 2009, I was sitting in my rented home in Toronto by a large fire in a stone hearth. I needed a break from the states but I didn't want to go too far. I was reading a book and had music playing in the background when suddenly I felt a sharp, stabbing pain near my heart. I dropped the book and gasped. Then I felt another stab as if someone was pushing something even deeper into my heart, and suddenly, the pain was gone. I looked down at my hands which were still pink and warm, felt my heart beating in my chest. I had thought that someone had finally done it, Katherine was dead, but I knew that if that was the case I would not be alive right now. It wasn't Katherine. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks; it was Alexia, she was gone.

Grief is a funny thing in that it does not always manifest in the same way. When I lost my parents and my daughter I couldn't move past the pain, each day feeling myself sinking deeper and deeper into despair. The pain is still present, even five centuries later it still hurts. The truth is that our pain never really goes away; we just learn how to live each day without letting it take over. When Alexia died I felt pain, along with the guilt I had carried around for these many years, but mostly I was angry.

I learned the name of the vampire who had killed Alexia from her boyfriend. He came to find me after she died and he told me that he had confronted the one responsible for her death but that he didn't kill him. I understood. I was furious, but Alexia had loved Stefan and if his brother Damon had killed Alexia and Stefan had been able to forgive him, then who was I to judge. If it hadn't been for me she never would have been in that mess in the first place.

I spent almost three years learning to forgive myself. Each day I forced myself to get out of bed, shower, eat and leave the house. Some days were better than others. I had overheard someone once say that even though not every day will be good, there will still be some good in every day. I started to focus on that, finding the good in each day. I started to smile, even laugh again. I knew that if Alexia saw me moping about as I had been she would have found a way to come back from the dead and kick my ass.

I just recently received word from an acquaintance in Virginia that the little town of Mystic Falls was now housing not only The Originals, including Klaus who had sacrificed the newest Petrova Doppelganger, Elena Gilbert, to break the curse and sire a line of Vampire/Werewolf Hybrids, but also that a strange coffin had recently been opened only to find the Original Witch herself, Esther. Elena was saved by her birth father who gave his life in exchange for hers and the Salvatore brothers who had been "keeping her safe" for the last few years were not exactly in the Original's good graces. Elena needed me, she was family after all.

If Esther was indeed in Mystic Falls there was a chance that I might be able to get to her and ask her to reverse the spell linking me to Katherine so that I could finally be at peace and join my family in death. It was my only chance, she was the only one who could help me and I had to get to her. I packed my things and left Toronto for Virginia. I couldn't get there fast enough.

In the car on the way there I formulated a plan. It involved tricking Damon Salvatore into thinking that I was human and then dropping the ball to reveal who I really was. I was on his side, I wanted Katherine dead or at least punished for what she had done to me, and as I understood it, he and Katherine had had a bit of a falling out when she told him she never loved him; classy lady my mother. It would be to his benefit to have a five hundred year old vampire on his side, never mind that I am a Unique, which in all likelihood he had probably never heard of.

I arrived in Mystic Falls around noon, perfect timing so that he might notice me out in the sun. I sat on a bench across from The Grille and waited. My sources had told me that he frequented the bar so I had only to wait. About twenty minutes later I saw a man fitting Damon's description entering The Grille. I picked up my bag and followed him in. I slipped into the bathroom to ensure that my make-up was still intact. I slipped a safety pin from my purse and made a long slit up my arm. The fresh unhealed wound would entice him as well as help me feign my humanity. The fact that my blood smelled just like Katherine's would certainly invite attraction.

As I weaved my way up to the bar I stared at his back, willing him to turn around. He must have felt my eyes on him because he turned my way and when I knew he was looking, I looked away and cozied up to the bar ordering a drink. I looked over at him shyly and he smiled and lifted his glass to me. I smiled and looked down at my hands. I hoped this would work. I had a feeling I wasn't the kind of girl he would normally have any interest in, but I had an advantage, Katherine's blood. I knew that he wouldn't be able to resist that. When my drink came I reached for my wallet and saw a shadow pass over me. There he was, Damon Salvatore standing right next to me, paying for my drink, falling into my trap.

I looked up at him with innocent eyes and thanked him. This was the first time I had seen him up close. His blue eyes were piercing, extraordinary really. I had never seen any like them before. His strong jawline and dark hair added to his appeal. I was caught somewhat off guard, but I collected myself quickly. He offered me his hand and introduced himself. I told him that it was a pleasure to meet him and he told me that the pleasure was all his. He kissed the back of my hand, making me blush before asking who I might be…

"My name is Ella-Norrah Christian but please, call me Norrah."


End file.
